


The Wings of Trees

by wickedrum



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Burn, Time Skips, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-07-23 08:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedrum/pseuds/wickedrum
Summary: This was supposed to be a whumpy one-shot. Then it became more, but it was still not going to be a Tauriel/Thranduil fic. Then I gave in. Can I even write a Hobbit fic that isn’t Tauriel/Thranduil?





	1. The Edge of Reason

**Author's Note:**

> Set: as many of my fics, it starts at the end of The Hobbit trilogy on that ledge where Tauriel mourns Kili. 
> 
> Disclaimers: I barely own my knickers. When I am writing, it's mainly for my own pleasure.
> 
> Pairing: slowburn Tauriel/Thranduil.
> 
> Note: I don’t even know how many fics I’ve written with a very similar premise. But they just keep coming, what can I do?

Tauriel was only vaguely aware of Thranduil’s presence. There was an invisible force weighing her down, anchoring her to the body of the dwarf in her arms as if not letting him go could have changed their future together, or at the very least, prolong their way too brief relationship. Her chest felt like as if her own heart had been pierced through and with it, came a paralysis of her limbs, of her whole body and eventually of emotion. Her logical mind remembered that numbness was one of the organism’s possible reactions to shock, a self-protecting mechanism and at this point, she hated it, or she should have hated it, she thought. How dare her body deny her the pain. Her senses were dull too, eyes hazy from tears and the muscles in her arms forgot how to work, their burden making her hold limp and yet she wasn’t able to care, not about anything. Her wandering eyes looked up upon the skies in utter disheartenment and submission. She was beaten and past questioning higher powers, for it was pointless. There was a figure in her vision too, blocking out the pale, setting winter sun and Tauriel could not help but become slightly more conscious of the fact that yes, Thranduil was still there. He didn’t seem to heed her at the moment, but stood at the very edge of the ledge, staring at the carnage below in something like a trance.

Although still locked in her own torment, or more like because of it, Tauriel instantly recognised the echo of her pain. His was similar, vast and paralysing, it seemed to overwhelm him. Tauriel has never seen so much emotion on the King’s face. Slow wheels turned in her head, but as soon as the suspicion formed in her mind, she panicked, “My Lord Legolas. Is Legolas alright?” Her breath stopped in dread.

An eternity passed and Tauriel was just about getting herself together to repeat the question when Thranduil sighed, “Yes. Legolas is well,” he continued staring at the valley littered with bodies.

Tauriel gave a quick thanks to whoever was responsible for her friend’s fate. The prince was alright and yet the redhead didn’t find it surprising when Thranduil sighed once more and dropped to his knees in defeat. For whatever reason, they were on the same wavelength, her fea understood that and accepted it without question. The elleth wasn’t surprised either when he buried his face in his hands, a mirror to how she was feeling, but she was not capable to do it herself for her numbness. She had accused him of not caring only a short time before that felt like forever ago and she knew he still did not care much, not for anyone else’s lives than elven, but his grief for his people was solid and palpable. It felt like the very air around him was sucking her in. Tauriel took comfort in it however, it made her feel like she wasn’t alone in her grief.

She wasn’t sure how long they’ve been sitting there like that. Her warrior senses must’ve been impaired as well because she only started when Feren was already standing next to his King, “are you injured, My Lord?” The brown haired elf hovered nervously, not finding the position they’d found Thranduil very encouraging. 

The Elvenking must’ve been experiencing the same detachedness that Tauriel was because he was also startled, which he disguised with a quick standing up and turning towards his lieutenant and the small group of guards he had brought with him, “just a scratch, no more,” he intended a dismissive gesture, but it unbalanced him along with the quick turn, making him wobble. 

There were several pairs of hands that tried to reach him for he looked like tumbling down the peak, hands that quickly retreated too at his frosty look. Feren’s hands however, stayed and he made an attempt to guide the King away from the edge. “I have brought Gaemon with me,” the lieutenant offered in a non-confrontational manner, as if only mentioning offhandedly that by the way he had remembered to bring a healer with him. Of course, this diplomatic ability was one of the good reasons why Feren was commander of the Guard and Thranduil’s right hand on the battlefield. It also didn’t escape his attention that he had to hold onto Thranduil firm to counteract the slipperiness his fingers encountered on the armour, his King’s blood. Feren nodded at the healer to step closer, exchanging more suggestive looks with him when the King did not object not being herded further away by the two of them. 

“A scratch even should be sewn as soon as possible to prevent further blood loss,” Gaemon was bold enough to join in with the convincing Thranduil to accept medical attention. 

Nobody had really expected him to nod, let himself be handled further and stripped of his armour. The seasoned healer had already guessed the injured area, judging by the blood flow it had to be at the seams his armour plates joined at his left side. “It’s best if you lie down on your other side,” the healer encouraged, “I can do this right here, right now, away from prying eyes or any of our troops,” he angled for what he knew was important for his King, appearances and being able to stand strong for his people.

“Alright.” The arguments must’ve been convincing enough and by the time the Elvenking sat down, a bundle of capes and sacks had already been produced for his comfort while lying on the stone ground. He shook his head, “still, you can stitch me up as I’m sitting.”

Neither of his two attendants was happy with the situation, but it wasn’t the place to object, so Gaemon unrolled his supplies and got to work without a word. Thranduil seemed detached again, not acknowledging any of the trail of the needle till the venerable healer paused, shaking his head, “lower here, the gash seems deeper. I can’t just close it without exploration or as much as treating it with athelas, it wouldn’t be right. I need you to lie down please My Lord so I can see.”

“Just close it up,” Thranduil was gruff, “I have spent enough time on this”. 

Gaemon gave a sigh in protest, but there wasn’t much else he could do other than try to cover as deep of an area as he could with his stitches. The angle was difficult and increasingly so and then it dawned on him in consequence that the King wasn’t sitting as straight as he had been a moment ago. A glance up confirmed his fears as Thranduil’s eyes were closed, his expression a different kind of vacant to before. Tentatively he reached a hand out to steady him, but then he suddenly had to lean his whole body into it to catch him. Feren just as quick at the other side, “what happened!” The lieutenant was startled to shake his head. 

“I believe the King has just passed out,” old Gaemon was similarly disbelieving as they lay the Elvenking onto the top of the previously laid out garments. 

Tbc


	2. Light to Us That Wander Here

Chapter 2: Light to Us That Wander Here 

At first, Thranduil felt nothing. It was a little bizarre, it occurred to him, to be aware that we feel nothing, contradictory even. He didn’t fight it though, nor was he looking for something more, yet soon became aware of a warm feeling across his belly that was trying to compete for dominance with the stinging in his side. To settle the battle one way or another, the king shifted, his brain late in catching up with the intent and maybe possibly warning him in advance that such a thing was rarely a good idea after having been injured. The stinging intensified and set off a wave of cramps that encompassed half his abdomen. Not knowing who was around, he bit the inside of his lips to stop himself from crying out. To his surprise, the response was someone’s smaller, warm fingers tightening their grip on his hand and they rubbed his wrist comfortingly too. Who could be so insolent! The act made him open his eyes and he found Legolas sitting by his bedside, makeshift as it was in his army tent, at which the younger royal withdrew a little, nodding his respect. 

“You’re here too?” Thranduil mumbled disorientated and immediately regretted it. The manifestation must’ve sounded dumbfounded and therefore not fitting his position and he only had his injury to blame as an excuse. 

“I could feel something strangely unsettling stirring and so I made the lucky mistake of looking back as I crossed the river. There was a lot of unusual commotion down the side of the Lonely Mountain. From afar, I couldn’t tell what condition they were bringing you down in, so I came back,” Legolas excused his choices. His face was stoic as ever during their interactions, but there was a softness to it that Thranduil found unusual and perturbing. Was he really that unwell to warrant such a reaction from his disdainful son. It was hard to tell with that fog accumulating around his head. 

“How are you, ada?” More unexpected tenderness from his son, “you look terrible.”

“What happened Legolas?” It was time to find out.

“All I know is that your wound was poisoned, I do not know how you got it or from who.”

Of course, that made sense, all that cramping, his heavy heart and blurry vision. It was embarrassing however how much it must have affected his thinking too as well that he couldn’t figure it out himself. “Yes..How long was I out for?”

“A little while.”

“Legolas, enough.” The warning that Thranduil did not want to hear of attempts at placating him was clear and it heartened Legolas somewhat to hear his tone so close to how irate he would usually sound.

“It has been two days since the battle this far.”

Thranduil groaned in annoyance with himself. To stay unconscious at such important parts of post-battle negotiations in front of despicable dwarves! “This far? You expect me to laze some more? Are we still at that accursed land.”

“Forgive me ada, we couldn’t transport you. Gaemon said there was no threat to your life as long as we didn’t put any more strain on you.”

“Yes, and I take it everyone is aware of my enfeeblement!” Thranduil didn’t even try to dampen his displeasure and pushed himself into a sitting position in anger.

“Ada, this is the kind of strain you are to avoid harming you,” Legolas tried, despite knowing how unbridled his father’s rage outbursts went, “the toxin is still in your system.”

“What you speak of? After two days,” Thranduil was confused, even so since the world was spinning more the higher he tried to raise himself. 

“It’s not a type of poison our healers knew the exact purpose of.”

“How unbefitting!” Thranduil was seriously scandalised. He didn’t expect to hear that. Elven healers were renowned for knowing everything, even if they had little use for it in everyday life. “Does that mean I’ve not been given an antidote?” It did certainly feel like it. The more alert he got, the more his side smarted as if it were eating itself up, the pain making him dizzy, nauseous and wishing to be able to have the luxury to lie back down or well, scream. 

“We are not to despair, Gaemon is positive you can fight it on your own,” Legolas attested. 

“Where is he.” He commanded. Not feeling well made Thranduil even more bad-tempered than usual. He attempted to rise out of bed, do something for himself or the very least get an update on his army. Not being used to feeling unwell however, he did not anticipate throwing up on himself violently the moment he swung his legs round. 

“A! Ed’ i’ear ar’ elenea!” The younger elf was just as helpless in the face of such a situation foreign to elves, “but lie back, I’ll get someone,” he went into a spin, literally as he made the side of the tent flap up behind him.

tbc

Glossary:

Ed’ i’ear ar’ elenea - By the sea and stars


	3. Honey and Milk

Chapter 3: Honey and Milk

It was the uncomfortable annoyance with himself over not remembering when he passed out and the following restlessness that Thranduil first became aware of while rousing this time, though the agitation didn’t result in him making a physical move however, his body and mind seemed to work separately. His limbs felt heavy, as if he would have been held down by boulders atop of him that made moving impossible and if that groaning sound he heard was made by him, then he should be ashamed of himself and take more care to stay silent. 

There was somebody happy for it though. “Ada, you’re awake! That’s good, it will be easier to give you the needed counteragents then. Don’t spit it out, there’s not much of it. Shall I help you?” Legolas warned him that he was going to place a hand under his neck to lift his head up while someone else raised a vial to his lips.

Thranduil couldn’t help but cough at the sudden feeling of some liquid rushing down his throat and the taste made him frown. They pulled him higher, into a sitting position to help him get more air and he held onto Legolas’ arms, somewhat relieved that he had the strength to at least do so, “I thought nobody knew a cure to speak of.”

“I said no elf knew the cure,” the prince sounded somewhat reluctant to say, “nothing for certain.” He paled a little in anticipation of what he knew was coming. 

Thranduil’s eyes snapped open at his words, “you don’t want to tell me another race knew.” His suspicion was obvious. “What have you done!”

Legolas flinched. Now that his father already drank the solution, there was really no reason not to say, “some dwarven warriors have encountered this orc threat before,” he kept his voice calm.

“Who!” Thranduil’s grip already seemed stronger. Either that, or he was just angry. “His name, you must tell me!” He pushed away his other helper, who appeared to be his servant Galion.

“Uh..Dwalin. Tauriel asked around for your sake. She wishes to see you well.”

“My life was never in danger, isn’t that what you said! A storm is just a storm. There was no reason for initiating such humiliation!” There was outright panic coursing through his veins in the face of having exposed such vulnerability, whether it was done with him being aware of it at the time or not. 

“Well ada, you were unconscious, which gives your heir apparent the command,” Legolas said with some satisfaction and irony, “it was my decision and there was no harm done.”

“In any case, I will not be indebted to dwarves!” Only Legolas would dare to even propose such a venture with such implications, Thranduil shook his head angrily.

“You aren’t,” Legolas sighed in exasperation, “Tauriel did it under veil. Nobody knows about it bar her friends.”

“Friends! What friends could dwarves be! I doubt they would keep their mouths shut at any case! Not if there was a chance to shame an elf!” Thranduil wasn’t sure if it was rage that made him see white stars, but he leaned back down nevertheless as he didn’t want to add to the embarrassing situations by passing out again. “Arrange for Feren and the Council Spokesperson of the Week to be sent to report immediately!” He continued, intent on taking charge back at once.

Tbc


	4. The Leaves Fall Not

Chapter 4: The Leaves Fall Not

Legolas wasn’t too surprised to find his father in the study dictating letters. Gaemon had of course recommended more rest, but Thranduil would hardly heed such advice. While the letters weren’t exactly urgent, Mirkwood’s ruler had always found it imperative to appear nothing less than the perfect ruler and the protector of his people’s best interests. “I would like to speak to you in private ada,” the prince seated himself on the divan, leaning back in suggestion that he wasn’t about to give up his venture. 

“I am still rather behind with correspondence as you can see,” Thranduil frowned at the parchments in a haphazard pile on the desk.

Legolas’ eyes lingered on the largely elven sigils for a moment, “most of these people can afford to wait a decade or two.”

Thranduil gave an impatient grunt and a flicker of a finger with which he sent his scribe away, not too fond of servants bearing witness to family squabbles. He leaned back into a more comfortable position in his chair and smoothed his robe while waiting for his assistant to close the door behind himself. “You’ve come to tell me you think you have more urgent business to discuss?” His tone was clipped, impatient. 

“As you remember, I had been in the middle of setting off North on your advice before my plans temporarily changed.”

“Ah.” Thranduil’s gaze stayed in his lap. What Legolas’ words implied didn’t exactly help how he was feeling “by all means, continue.” Yet the words were even, emotionless, he had managed to reign himself in enough.

“I came to see how you are. There’s no rush, I can stay behind and deal with all this first,” the prince gestured in the direction of the papers and parchments and small boxes that lay on and around the bureau, “I think I should, at least for a few days.”

“Did we have volunteers for the replenishing of the army?” Thranduil would rather talk business and straightened up somewhat without thinking as regal business required a more dignified, authoritative pose. 

“Eighty-two so far, aran-nin,” Legolas also switched to a more official manner, “most of them forest dwellers, already adept at enduring the hardest conditions and dangers.”

“Still, they should all have the same training,” the king tried to appear casual as he would have been on other occasions when discussing similar matters with his heir, popping a few bits of nuts into his mouth from the tray standing an armlength away, but he was frustrated over having to put on a show. “Expecting more volunteers would be unrealistic at this point.”

“We will not need to go into battle for a while,” Legolas appeased. 

Thranduil grit his teeth in irritation, “ion-nin, as it stands, sixty-seven of our people followed their fallen partners to Valinor and eighteen of them their respective parents. More to follow of course. At this rate, there won’t be much to defend.” Thranduil sounded a little more bitter, desperate and petulant than the simple fact would have indicated. Of course he knew how hard it was to endure without his other half, but if he stayed, he would have expected at least some of his higher ranking officials to sacrifice themselves the same way.

Legolas looked away. He had been pressed to choose a suitable mate from all directions for quite a while and produce some more eventual heirs as an example to Mirkwood, but thus far he hadn’t really been particularly interested in the venture, especially seeing how much heartache such bonds all caused. Maybe others were feeling the same. “Now that the orc threat to Mirkwood is thought to have been considerably diminished for the near future, we could maybe think of inviting some Cuiviénen elves who had stayed East. I hear their land is still shrinking due to the seas expanding. You might know some who are still alive, and even if not, we can still offer. I am not averse to taking letters myself.”

“Of course you’re not,” Thranduil rolled his eyes, his patience thinning. He eyed the carafe of wine. It would have been beneficial to dull the way unpleasant thoughts racing in his head, but he also knew how the alcohol made him feel sick ever since the poison. “I doubt any would move from where they’ve been cowering for centuries. And if they do, am I to employ those caitliffs as my soldiers?”

“Offer them protection. See what happens. We have common ancestors and they would have had to learn to defend themselves to survive since, wherever they were.”

“You don’t know this lot. If they were too afraid to cross the mountains and come with my father, then what should you expect,” Mirkwood’s ruler didn’t sound hostile, only resigned.

“I could perhaps find a partner there.”

Thranduil’s head snapped up at that, staring pointedly. He knew of course it was nothing but for an argument’s sake from Legolas, “I will believe it when I see it.” Apart from the occasional fleeting appreciation, the younger elf had not developed any relationships going beyond the harmony and regard he had with and for Tauriel. And that particular elleth, well she was out of the question now for even more sure than before after her scandalously disobedient streak. How was he supposed to explain to the people why he’s been so lenient with the redhead. He’d rather not think of Tauriel for now.

“You would surely accept my choice if it came from there rather than Rivendell or Lorien.”

Thranduil scoffed despite Legolas being correct. He despised those self-assured pricks, what did they have besides magically empowered jewellery ensuring their survival to warrant such arrogance. “So you would like to choose your own way, not North.” Not that he was surprised. The announcement of his son’s intentions warranted no anger, besides, Thranduil was way too tired for such strong emotions for the time being.

“I’m sorry. I will go North perhaps later,” Legolas rewarded his father with the hint of an acknowledging smile. “The replenishing of our ranks should come first. I would like to help and fulfil some princely duties that way, of course if you don’t need me here still to fill in holding audience or taking your place in the Council. I was told you had difficulties standing earlier. Is that true?”

“Who told you such a thing!” Thranduil did not realise he had to be embarrassed and that emotion seemed to be stronger than his tiredness and so it did take hold. 

“I’m not going to land them in difficulties by revealing that, ada,” the retort was soft as a lead in to, “may I help you to your room? I can stay behind, deal with the paperwork.”

Thranduil suppressed the urge to rub a hand over his face in exhaustion. Just looking at the stacks on his desk had made him feel worn out and shaky, and being reminded of the sheer volumes of issues wasn’t helping. “You don’t usually volunteer for that side of governing. It is well time you practiced it though. See how much you can deal with till tomorrow.” It was an excuse for not admitting instead how unwell he was and they both knew it, but the Elvenking could still keep appearances this way. Going with the flow, he stood and went round his table, trailing two fingers around it. It might have looked elegant and not far from what he would usually idly do, yet it was for balance this time. He had to give it channelled thought to straighten up and let go of the support, like he’d been needing to do wherever he went in the presence of company over the last few days. 

Legolas rose to accompany him as he had promised. The King raised a dismissive hand, but the movement set off the stinging in his side and he came to a halt, lips parting in a silent gasp before he could reign his reactions in. The younger royal did not miss the reaction and jumped to his other side to hold the older ellon up by the arm. “Ada, how is it you’re still not well. Does Gaemon know about this?”

His father took a moment just to breathe before he could hiss and control his shakes, but it didn’t take away from the sharpness of the retort, “nobody shall know about this, yes? I am improving and should be better soon enough.”

“Let me help you lie down then,” Legolas turned towards the bedroom’s direction slowly, letting Thranduil take his time. He didn’t expect the taller elf to lean into his support so much, nor to hunch or claw at his own midsection vaguely. The prince never intended to obey his father’s command of keeping his state of health completely secret, but this moment sealed the intent and the picking out the first order of the day once he went back to the desk. Legolas put his other arm around his father from the front, providing more support, one that Thranduil did use to hold onto as he lowered himself onto the bed. “Anything else you need?” The prince watched how carefully the king moved as he lay back. 

“I’d like to prepare to sleep,” Thranduil pulled a silken cover closer to himself.

“I will leave you to it then,” Legolas bowed his head, “take your time, I will be here.”

“No,” Thranduil didn’t look at his son, still embarrassed. But it was less awkward to ask Legolas than his other subjects, “I need tiotuin flowers to sleep.”

“Tiotuin flowers…of course, ” Legolas looked around the room curiously to see if he could locate any. He had never been one for using those, but he was aware that it had been brought into Mirkwood for those elves who wished or enjoyed to sleep more than their elven physiology allowed and that the plant was now best cultivated around the banks of the Enchanted River where it thrived as good as if it would have been originating from there, its petals more potent than ever. “Yes, but where is it?” Legolas wondered how often his father used the sleeping aid.

“Medicine box,” Thranduil sounded subdued and pained a little, his eyes glazing in accordance with whatever exactly was affecting him.

Legolas shook his head in worry and uncertainty. He now understood what the tiotuin essence was for. Rest would not come easy if his father was in a state of discomfort, which made his plan to speak to Tauriel in the matter of the poison again even more urgent. He hurried to spray some drops of the extract onto his father’s pillow, “is that enough?”

“Just leave the bottle by the bed, thank you.”

The younger blond frowned, but hid it by turning away, “I will be in the next room if you need something.” He did not know how powerful the extract was, but it was clear that too much of it would put anyone into an enchanted sleep. He will have to keep an eye on that too as he had to admit to the uncomfortable sentiment of not trusting his ada with such substances on the basis of his habitual alcohol consumption. At the same time, with nagging apprehension, he realised how premature it had been to talk about leaving the Kingdom again. 

Tbc


	5. The Fairest of Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas and Tauriel worry about the King.

Chapter 5: The Fairest Of Songs

Tauriel was surprised she was summoned for an immediate report to the King’s Study via a note presented to her by no servant, but rather Zasadeor, the exact same military officer steward who had been liaising for her as a letter carrier when she had been Captain of the Guard and frequently called up to report directly to the King. While a certain unease rose in her chest, she did not have much time to get too agitated as the note sounded urgent. Stumbling in, she was surprised to find Legolas sitting by his father’s desk, head buried in one hand, but still immersed in one of the carefully calligraphed books in front of him, full of numbers. He did not look happy, in fact his expression wasn’t far off to what she would have expected Thranduil’s to be in a similar situation. He looked like a picture of Legolas, The King. It wasn’t a good look on him. “Can I be of any assistance, tell me My Lord.” Tauriel started formally, still not sure where their relationship stood after the whole disaster of a turn of events. 

“Quiet, ada’s sleeping, I think,” he looked into the direction of the slightly ajar bedroom door he had purposefully left that way so he could hear if Thranduil was in distress, “you may sit,” he reached out to pull another chair close to his, really unusually close, “I fear it is that I have other confidential matters to discuss.”

Tauriel was rather wary of the position offered and tried to avert her eyes to avoid looking at the certainly also confidential documents, yet she couldn’t quite make eye contact with the prince either. She became seemingly interested in the fabric of his tunic instead till he spoke, straight to the point as they’ve always been with each other, “I’m very worried about the harm that came to my father. He seems to be in a lot of pain. I spoke to his attendants and they say he can barely keep anything down.”

“I thought he was better, mellon,” Tauriel always felt a lot of sympathy for the other motherless elf.

“So did most. But those close to him have to tell of another story.”

“But what does Gaemon say?” Tauriel was concerned both for the prince and the King’s sake.

“They say that apparently he was kept in the dark too, ada sent him away days ago.”

Tauriel nodded her understanding. Thranduil’s pride did not have many boundaries. “Dwalin didn’t imply it would take this long for the concoction to take effect. I will not forgive myself if I misunderstood.”

“Do not blame yourself. Gaemon had it studied for its safety and advantages before having it administered. Based on everything we know, it should have worked.”

“I’m no expert healer, but could it be the affliction is spiritual based on losses the King feels,” Tauriel was glad Legolas was still ready to confide in her.

“I’m pretty certain it is only a matter of percentages which factor affects him more,” the prince concurred, “be that as it may, I would like to be able to eliminate the one we can to the best of our ability. Gaemon did mention it would be beneficial to speak to the person who made the tincture. Any idea who it was?”

“No, but even if I did, it does not solve much..”

“Because it would be doubtful they would speak to us,” Legolas finished the thought.

“Nevertheless, I will do what I can, I will not give up,” Tauriel stood, “I will depart to Erebor as soon as I will be given authorization for a horse,” she reminded her friend of her delicate situation at court at present. 

“Tell them I granted it for you to leave with,” that part was a no brainer for Legolas, “but allow me to check, is it appropriate for me to send you. I do not wish to put you under more strain, veiled or otherwise and cause you heartache and the surfacing of unpleasant memories,” the blond had no intentions to chance exposing Tauriel to further desolation and perhaps cause her to have any thoughts of letting herself fade due to grief.

“I will help the King if I can. When would I not. I owe him that much,” the redhead was steadfast, aware that she had been avoiding her duties to her own people of late. 

“I wish I could come with you, on a mission side by side as we used to,” Legolas frowned at minutes of the latest Council meeting that was lined up for his attention after the Halls’ financial accounts, “it might be our last chance.”

“Don’t worry for me mellon. It may have not felt like that at the time, but what I had experienced up on that ledge helped me put everything into perspective. I am stronger than ever, know who I am, what I want and what is important deep in my heart more than ever.”

Legolas looked up at her in wonder, “...I wish I knew for myself, like that.”

“I can help you figure it out, but for now I can’t, I should hurry.”

Tbc


	6. Heavenly Jewels

Chapter 6: Heavenly Jewels

Seeing movement from the corner of his eyes, Thranduil looked up from scanning through the notes his scribe had given him for his approval before taking on the task of transcribing the events of the battle for posterity. It wasn’t his clerk who came back for a discussion about the events however, but Legolas accompanied by Tauriel in a rather muddy, travelworn attire, Galion, Gaemon and his apprentice, as well as his colleague and botanist Tinil, and finally two of his high ranking Council members. “Did something happen?” The Elvenking put down his reading material and tilted his head slightly in the direction of the intruders. 

“Not much for certain, that is the problem,” Legolas dared the answer.

“Forgive me, My Lord, but I find your lack of progress achieving full health rather alarming,” the healer explained a bit more in detail. 

“Tell me which part of secrecy regarding the matter did you not understand!” Thranduil rose with a swift motion, making the visitors step back in the space of small study, “you force me to give pause and reconsider confidential positions again,” he stared at his butler in particular. 

“Galion is here in a supporting capacity on my request,” Legolas stood to attention, “as is everyone else, all have been asked here by me today.” It was clear he was exercising restraint to calm the anger inside him. 

“And what pray tell could be the advantages to this provocative motion?” The King growled his displeasure, “out with all of you, now!”

“They aren’t going anywhere,” Gaemon stood clearly in the way of the hesitating gathering, “we have decided that an intervention was necessary.”

“An intervention.” Rage boiled high in the King’s veins, energising his usually ailing body, “how many of you would like to spend the night in the dungeons?” He cocked his head threateningly, his chilly gaze moving slowly and menacingly between them, “guards!”

“Hear us out, ada,” Legolas eased the tightening of his knuckles, hoping to convey control in a situation similar to which he never won.

“Of course, one of you should certainly explain what you were thinking,” Thranduil seethed, “Tauriel, you may stay.” He chose with a challenging look. “The rest of you, wait outside till I decide what to do with you.”

“I will stay as well.” Based on recent previous experience, the crown prince was worried and did not trust how his father would treat the traitor in private.

“I know that Tauriel would give the most concise report, that I can say based on her background and standing, the rest of you drags on too long all the same way,” Thranduil gave his reason for dismissing all of them, which Legolas could now not disregard either. With a small nod, the prince followed the others out. 

“Sit,” the King inclined his head dismissively towards a chair to the side unconventionally close to the one he lowered himself back into. 

Tauriel turned to comply a little confused and somewhat concerned by the turn of events. Wasn’t she supposed to be quick? “Forgive me My Lord, I am afraid this must all be my fault.”

“The fun ambush you’ve honoured me with?” He referred to the filling of his quarters by a strange gathering of elves, some of which he hadn’t talked to in years. 

“No, the reason for the ambush. I am very sorry, but it appears that I may have been thoughtless and made a mistake with the antidote,” she wrung her hands in anxiety, carried away by it.

“Huh, of course. I figured as much,” he acknowledged. 

“If I may be so bold, are you in a lot of pain, My Lord?” Tauriel felt herself panic as she looked at him searchingly with devotion. She had been trying to keep herself from freaking out ever since she’d found out about her slip, but it appeared that she could not control herself right at this moment in time. She slid off her chair into a kneeling position, fully submissive, “I’m not here for mercy, I would merely like to right my wrongs.”

“Would you like to say you’ve poisoned me by mistake out of naivety? That your dwarves you’re so obsessed with aren’t what you thought they were? Don’t concern yourself. Under no circumstances will I blame you for your gullibility because I am certain that is all it was. You were not causing me any harm intentionally.”

“No! My Lord, please no! I have not poisoned you,” Tauriel sounded vehement and emotionally compromised, suddenly shaking with the intensity of her reaction as she stared at him in shock at his assumptions, “nor willingly or unwilligly! What gave you that idea!” The ex guard was rather worked up at the same time as on the verge of falling apart. On the top of it, she really didn’t understand him. If he thought she had made even a bigger mistake, then how was he so ready to forgive her? First her disloyalty and insubordination and now this, and yet he hadn’t punished in a way that suited the crime, not did he retaliate. It really didn’t make sense. 

“Oh?” The Elven Lord frowned. The way Thranduil had been feeling, it was actually a surprise for him that his speculation about having poison in his system wasn’t correct, but he wasn’t going to completely give that away. 

“The mistake was my hastiness to see you well, Aran-nin,” the redhead continued so she could explain everything and cast his suspicions aside as soon as possible, “my mellon there did say he wasn’t entirely sure of the composition of the potion, but I suppose I was glad to be able to rush back with the information I had at the time, thinking that our healers and botanists could fill in the gaps if there were any.”

“So that’s why they came here with you? They have made a mistake as well?” He prompted, trying to catch her wandering eyes for once.

“No, insomuch as they have verified that nothing we were giving you could be harmful. But there was an ingredient missing. It would seem that altogether it only works if mixed together in water melted from the ice from the Lonely Mountain. That I have now brought back with me and I promise that the mixture made this way was now further verified by our expert researchers as being pure and safe for elven use.”

“So what were other members of the Council doing here?” He shook his head slightly with the fresh thought.

“I am certain that My Lord Legolas had brought everyone he had earnestly thought necessary for convincing you to try the remedy again.”

Thranduil blew the air our slowly, trying to control his first reaction of effervescent outrage at how his entire Court seemed to be treating him with such patronization. “Because I can’t act irrational and untrusting and not try it if certain members of the Court are present to witness it, is that it? Truly? Blackmail.”

“In a nutshell, yes I believe that it was something akin to that what Legolas was aiming for,” Tauriel resisted the urge to frown at her admittance, feeling the awkwardness of the situation. She wasn’t supposed to put Legolas on the spot.

“Where is it?” Thranduil’s hum was surprisingly gentle and favourable, and at odds with any previous words during the encounter. 

“Gaemon has it,” she straightened up a bit. This, she could answer freely and forthright.

“Very well, you may send him in with it. But only him.” The command was firm.

“You’ll take it without further argument?” The consideration escaped Tauriel due to her pleasant surprise.

“I may be royally difficult, hot tempered and wilful, but I am not stupid my dear.”

“Yes, of course My Kind Lord, forgive me,” she tried to get out of view and the difficult conversation by complying with his command to rush for the aforementioned item. 

“And Tauriel?” He made her turn at the door, “next time, you need not fear. Just come alone. There’s no need for a spectacle either when I would simply trust you to let me know of developments.”

Tbc


	7. Silence is Glory

Chapter 7: Silence is Glory

Tauriel had no time to think, it was warrior instinct fortified with a couple of hundred years of fine tuned practice that alerted her to a presence behind her and she turned, readying her bow at the same time to find herself face to face with the ruler of these woods himself, albeit wearing no sign of his status, not even the circlet around his head he wore if accompanying scouts on a rare patrol. Apart from this and their surroundings, there was little that made the moment any different to the one during the battle when she tried to force him to do something he didn’t want to. They faced each other at the same distance, wielding the same weapons, both at the ready. 

“I will go no further,” Thranduil gave her the hint of an agreeable grin, referring to the conversation they’ve had on that other occasion when she stood as his challenger. “Not this time.”

Tauriel was surprised he’d remembered the exact wording she’d used, but then again, it had been one unforgivable, outlandish deed no other elf she knew had ever attempted. She immediately let her bow down this time, looking around wildly and animated, suspicious, “where is everyone else My Lord?”

“I came alone, on your behalf,” the King stated. He looked around also, just as a final check to assess the surroundings, then sheeted his sword elegantly, in that manner of moving slowly that often reminded Tauriel of a beguiling courting dance. 

“Alone? For what?” Tauriel was completely confused by both parts of the sentence. 

“Could you please find your wits where you’ve misplaced it, I’m sure they still exist. Yes, alone. What I am doing, isn’t for anybody’s eyes, nor business. Though I must say, it wasn’t dramatically hard to find you.”

Tauriel looked at him uncertainly. She had chosen to live in one of the areas of the deep forest very rarely patrolled and it was even doubtful if they were still on the right side of the Mirkwood border. For this reason, it hadn’t been a very safe region to start with, but Tauriel had single-handedly rid it of most of the spider nests and drove a couple of Ringwraights out too, so it was now relatively quiet, even though she had to take daily surveys to make sure it stayed that way. Sure, if somebody knew she didn’t leave the Kingdom, her behaviour would have been predictable, but even then, there were dozens of places like this in the forest. 

Her uncertainty must’ve been written on her face because Thranduil’s expression mellowed further, “do you even know the reason you’re here? Dare to say, do you know what here is?”

Tauriel’s countenance was of further, fresh uncertainty, “I am sorry My Lord Thranduil, I don’t understand your meaning.”

With a flowing movement, he seated himself on a rock by the fire she had been in the middle of roasting various edible roots at, “where do you go for shelter around here when needed?”

“There’s only a haunting, dark cave nearby.”

“You haven’t found ruins? Signs of previous habitation in the vicinity? Anything out of the ordinary?” Thranduil showed signs of his usual impatience, manifesting in a suddenly colder voice.

“There is an enchanting little shack by the stream. But I have decided I didn’t think it suitably safe for present-day habitation.”

“You don’t remember it? The place I found you for the first time. Sure of course, you were no more than a few years old innocent elfling. Still, it would make sense for your subconscious to choose to gravitate here.”

“You...you,” Tauriel was shocked enough to stutter, magnetised by the finding, “you mean you have tracked me down personally? I wasn’t aware of that. I thought it was a patrol.” She wanted to ask more but wasn’t sure it was a good time. Why was he here?

“Truth is I used to go on hunts more often. Alone. It helped me calm and gather myself,” Thranduil continued conversationally as if they would have been sitting by the dinner table.

“But The Guard will surely freak out. I can imagine how spooked I would be if I was on duty and I unforgivably let the King wander off by himself.” 

Thranduil grinned at that mildly, clearly entertained by the notion, “they were used to it and prepared to accept it at one point when Legolas was little, but I’m pretty sure I gave them a fine fright now.”

“Have you been alright? It’s not safe,” Tauriel continued with the same argument she would have if she was still in his service. She repressed a heartfelt shudder, she didn’t even want to think of the consequences of anything going wrong out here. 

“Didn’t you make it safe? Even the skies are bluer in this part of the woods.” His look was genuinely appreciative, his countenance dreamy.

“I would gladly help you back to your guard if you find it agreeable,” the elleth seemed to have an impressively one track mind at the moment. 

“I do not think so. Trying to get rid of me so remarkably fast?”

Tauriel blushed in response, “that isn’t what I meant, My Lord. I was asking simply because I worry for our King’s welfare.”

“Are you now?” Thranduil’s voice dripped with smoldering sarcasm as he glanced at her bow with an indicative nod and leaned slightly closer. Of course not the same one she had threatened him with, but his meaning was clear. 

“I am ready and willing to pay for my mistakes in a satisfying manner, I have told you that.”

“Smashing. Just not the way I intended you to pay, believe me. Did anyone order you away.” He was starting to get spirited in the argument. 

“Wasn’t I banished for the rest of my days, My Lord?” She countered stiffly and huffily. 

“In a moment of tempting anger, perhaps. You did not stay around till I took back full royal duties to find out.” His eyes darted at her in an accusatory manner this time, as if he would have had to size her up as a threat.

“However whatever you have in mind, I assure you, I will truly complete to the best of my abilities.”

“Very well then, I would like you to become my constant personal companion.” While his voice was stern, focused and commanding, his fingers circled the buttons on his cloak fidgetingly, unsure of her answer or how it would affect him. 

“Your what? I’m sorry, what is it you desire? I am not aware of this open position.”

“That’s because I’ve never had one before. I am told by my healers that solitude is interfering with my health. I can’t think of a more interesting and passionate person in the whole of the realm to be counterpart in this so you are coming back.”

“Myself interesting as a companion?” Starry-eyed, Tauriel blushed for the second time, deeper this time round.

“Yes if you consent, from this very moment on. So what shall be your choice?”

Touched, Tauriel took in a deep breath, the enormity of the task giving her a lot of anxiety, “with pleasure. But in that case My Lord, it would be prudent we go back to the Halls.”

Thranduil wagged a finger at her, instantly more at ease and thrilled now that he knew of her favourable answer, “did I say act as Guard? First of all, we will stay here so you could gather those roots out the fire before they burn to a crisp, is that clear?” The ElvenKing could not stand to see the fruit of the forest go to waste.

Tbc


	8. Linger and Sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worries being shared.

Chapter 8: Linger and Sing

Tauriel’s steps weren’t hurried as she left the guarded arch that served as one of the entrances to the ElvenKing’s Halls, but her heart was aching for the fresh air and the call of the forest. She wasn’t used to this, spending weeks at a time underground, not as much as seeing the skies all day and night while she tended to the King, officially as companion, but as friend, nurse, servant, guard, cook and everything else in reality. It was hard work, especially with Thranduil’s moods being more volatile than ever. The ElvenKing hated being below par, with old afflictions coming to the surface as a result and not quite in touch with his magic the same way with it so his moods varied from wretched and inconsolable to a radiant and contented sometimes that Tauriel could not explain the reason for. It was interesting punishment for her to say the least and the most intimate she could’ve ever imagined anyone being with the ruler, family members or otherwise. Given this personal knowledge and unique grasp she had on the King’s welfare and everyday dealings, the ex-captain was not surprised in the slightest when Gaemon sought her out and casually joined her on her favourite log she frequented on the rare occasion when Thranduil was in such a mood that he sent her away. 

“How is he?” Gaemon’s question was near ritualistic on these occasions.

“I see no change.” Tauriel was miserable over it, “I always assume he’s better, and then he throws up. He doesn’t even think he can hide it from me anymore, he doesn’t try. I don’t know what this all means. Do you think it is possible there’s still poison in his system after all this time!?” The elleth was despairing.

“I cannot imagine,” the royal healer agreed.

“Some new toxicant we didn’t consider then, there must be something we’re overlooking.”

“Don’t you dine with him, stay with him, share in everything he does and everywhere he goes. And you don’t display any symptoms.”

“Then it has got to be my fault. Maybe I’ve really poisoned him with my potion,” she shook her head in disheartenment.

“Tauriel dear child, that’s not likely.”

“What is it then? How long will this go on!”

“I have a conjecture. I know it may have not seemed like it for the average onlooker, but our Lord has not really been well ever since the Queen Consort left him. Injuries and afflictions could be patched up and covered up, but sooner or later there was going to be a leak of the light that he would be unable to stench.”

“Thranduil can’t be fading,” Tauriel refused the thought with firm words as if those could have stopped it.

“My dear, King Thranduil has been alone in this world after losing a partner longer than any other elf I know of.”

“It can’t be that,” Tauriel would refuse to accept, “it can’t be a coincidence this happened after the poisoning.” There was a thunderous storm in her eyes at the mere suggestion of her King leaving these pastures.

“No, it’s not. It probably weakened him further, enough to kickstart the phenomenon.”

“There must be something we can do.” Her voice was soft-hearted and empathetic, in sharp contrast to the angry look she’d denied her conversation partner’s words with.

“You can. It seems to help when you’re around. Before your coming back, he didn’t really have good days.”

Tauriel shook her head, “what, that’s not enough. I must go back to Erebor and confront my benefactors. Maybe I did have it all wrong after all.”

“Child, that’s the worst thing you can do, leave His Majesty to his own devices for so long! And against his wishes too.”

“It’s not disloyalty when it is for his benefit. Cover for me, for as long as you can, I best leave while he’s asleep,” Tauriel stood up and took off swiftly towards the stables without further ado, desperate to find a definitive solution. 

Tbc


	9. Under Heavens Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel gets more unexpected visitors.

Chapter 9: Under Heavens Cool

Judging by the sounds of rustling and groaning branches, the dwarves had taken no precautions to hide their intentions and trudged straight down to Tauriel as she was washing her muddied cloak in the river. It was Balin and Dalldav Lavashard, hand and sort of aide to Dain, or as much of an advisor as the newly crowned dwarf king would take from anyone. It was an unusual sight for the reason that the haughty advisor rarely left his royal friend’s side and also because Tauriel could not think of anything the two arriving dwarves would have had in common given their very different backgrounds and attitudes.

“Don’t elvenqueens have people for that sort of thing.” Dalldav marched up close.

“Vemu,” Tauriel started cautiously in Khazdul. She never had dealings with Dain’s consultant before, but she did know that the ruler of Erebor liked him because his manner and thought processes were similar to his own so it was well worth the taking special care when talking to the dwarf with an especially long beard even for his kind. “Zai adshanzu ra barafzu,” she thought wise to add, especially as she did not understand what he was meaning.

“You can quit, do you think I’m here for an exchange of pleasantries, blossom garland?”

Tauriel took a moment to think. No, she really didn’t have flowers in her hair. If the last bit was meant to be an insult, it was the nicest she’d ever heard, if not then it was even more astonishing to hear. “Neither am I, but I can assure you, my business has nothing to do and has no reflection on your King. I am here simply to talk to a friend I’m waiting for.”

“I really do not care what you do in your spare time, now however we are to receive you at a feast in your honour at The Lonely Mountain.”

“Please forgive me, I fear I don’t understand why.”

“Yes lass, you’re to come,” Balin seemed to be there for this very support, “King Dain would like to offer up some chickens in tribute to you.”

“For what I did for his kin or his people?” 

“No,” the advisor took over again, “but it is exactly what the kinsmen of Thorin Oakenshield have told me is why we think you will make a favourable Elvish Queen for us.”

“I can’t. I am no queen,” Tauriel was now suitably confused to say.

“But you will be,” Dalldav seemed certain.

“I don’t know why you think so, but I can assure you that I am but a lowly Silvan elf who is thankful to have had the privilege to serve in the Guard.” Did these dwarves think she was connected to Legolas in that way when they’ve seen them together?

“And yet Thranduil has announced his engagement to you.”

“You must have misunderstood something,” Tauriel went for the diplomatic way instead of saying the dwarf was messing her around, “I do not know what you mean.”

Dalldav however looked deadly serious, “Thranduil wrote in Khazdul like he always does and useless as he may be, I’ve never known him to make language mistakes.”

“There’s a letter,” Balin tried to be helpful as he nodded towards the advisor’s pocket. 

“See for yourself,” Dalldav was open to the suggestion enough to hand over the letter. 

Tauriel dried her hands on some leafs before reaching for the item. If the broken seal didn’t convince her of the letter’s origin, the handwriting certainly did. It wasn’t a scribe or even the butler’s writing, but the King’s own elegant and tall letters, albeit it seemed he didn’t have patience for rounding out his vowels out properly. What was written though, made no sense to her. A formal invitation for a dwarvish delegation or even the King of Erebor to attend a wedding if they so wanted. His and Tauriel’s, in just a little over a week’s time. The elleth stared, suddenly feeling like the whole world around her was some kind of surreal, non-existent place. It took her a moment to realise that the dwarves were trying to speak to her. “I am sorry, I need to go back to Mirkwood immediately,” she gathered her clothes out the river, “please convey my apologies to anyone who may care,” she tried to remain diplomatic despite the confusing situation as she departed in a rush. 

Tbc

Glossary:

Vemu - greetings

Zai adshânzu ra barafzu - At your service and your family's


	10. Harsh Across the Marsh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more surprises for Tauriel.

Chapter 10: Harsh Across the Marsh 

If the sentries’ and guards’ royal salute wasn’t strange enough, any servant Tauriel met while marching up the halls gave her a deep bow and avoided eye contact, while the guard at the King’s private chambers opened his door without question and before the redhead could even ask. “Why does everybody seem to think I’m your betrothed!” The she-elf did not want to stench the anger she’d been harbouring all the way there from Erebor. 

Thranduil turned to sit up on his pillows, clearly stirred by her arrival just as clearly as he was unwell. He stared back before clearing his throat and putting on his enigmatic, calm and collected mask with it. “You would be glad to hear I am taking medical advice.”

“I don’t care about medical advice right now, what I want to know is why you’ve told everyone high and low you and I are getting married!” Tauriel’s stance remained confrontational.

“That was the medical advice,” the Elvenking nodded slowly, calculatedly, using the rhythm of the motion to calm himself further against the storm of her outburst.

“What?” Tauriel sat heavily on his bed in shock, astounding suspicions starting to take shape in her mind. 

“If you remember, I was to get a companion. I didn’t need Gaemon to tell me it was working well. I didn’t need him to say I felt best when you were around, only you. But he did tell me there’s only one thing that I could try that would make me whole again, to become one with you and I already knew that too.”

“But My King..” None of what she’d heard so far made her relax or yield any.

“A day without you is like a night without starlight. But you haven’t said yes and I just assumed you would and acted accordingly while I knew it was wrong of me, is that the problem?” 

“Well yes, I mean no. I would do anything to have you well,” Tauriel realised the truth of her words as she said them, the only certainty in the chaos of her muddled mind, “but what you’re saying..it can’t be,” the elleth was royally bewildered. If the intent was true, by the suggestion, if it wasn’t then she was fazed by why the farce was made. Herself being compared to starlight she didn’t even acknowledge, he couldn’t have said that to her, could he.

“But why can’t it be if I give my heart to you.”

“Where should I start. For many, many good reasons.”

“Start with one,” he searched her patiently, coming closer.

“Aren’t unions like that based on passionate love,” was the first obstacle that somehow tumbled out her mouth although it was the one that she had thought of last. Her mind kept turning up further obstacles too.

Thranduil bristled at her words, “you still hold I have no love in me?” He straightened, feverish. It would be hard to say if it was because he felt threatened or because he automatically switched to threatening himself when challenged. 

“No, of course not, Aran-nin,” she was quick to say, “it’s just not that kind of love that you would feel for me that is.”

The blond elf sighed, “you have no idea, do you? You don’t know what you’ve done for me. Is it a coincidence that it is your companionship I wanted? That healers think that it is you and no one but you alone who could make me well? That I kept Legolas from you? Do you think I found you in the forest by chance?”

“Wait My King, wait, I don’t understand half of what you are saying.” He’d already started to cover some of her other objections she would have brought up, but the answers weren’t clear. “What was that about Prince Legolas? And you already explained how you found me, but how does that relate to love? It wasn’t my parentage you’ve kept Legolas away from me for?” The more she thought about it, the more questions got raised that her delirious mind flitted in between. 

“It was obvious you didn’t love him the way he was hoping so I didn’t have to feel guilty forbidding a relationship. Pay no heed to that, it’s not an important aspect. What is important is our fateful first meeting, when I first found you, not the recent occasion.”

“I was but a very young elfling..” Tauriel said weakly, at a loss about what he was getting at.

“Well yes, you were, and a kind little child at that, even as a wildling. I was worried you’d remember. Which is why I erased your memories of it. Not all of it though, so I thought you might have known where you were.”

“I assume you had good reasons?” The redhead said guardedly. While wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, she felt some anger stirring at the notion of her memories being taken away without her consent. Or was it without consent?

“The intervention was more of an altering nature. Just to gloss over certain details. It is like selective glamouring. You will be satisfied to know that the missing memories will be there and appear in your mind instantly if I let go.”

“You mean you kept this glamour in mind going on constantly for over two hundred years? Was sustaining it that important?”

“It was just one more enchantment to add to the countless I keep up,” Thranduil purely didn’t seem to be interested in this part of the conversation.

“Is it not burdensome and demanding overall for all this time?” Tauriel’s warmhearted concern for him escaped over the indignation she felt over whatever he may have done to her as a child. 

“It is like walking on higher heels than you are used to. Therefore it might require some of your active attention and skill at first, but then their existence becomes second nature.”

“However little burden it is, I am ready to confront the truth,” Tauriel sounded determined as she pushed any inclination for hesitation consciously out of her mind. The intrigue of what she might find out about herself was too compelling. 

“It’s not what you think,” Thranduil held out a hand that she reluctantly took. It wasn’t that they haven’t touched before and she wasn’t used to it, especially as her new recent role required it when helping him dress or handing him a book, but this touch was something else, softer, more intimate. The tall elf pulled her over slowly, then started going backwards as he led her towards the retreat part of the chamber, partially forking off into a natural-looking enclosure padded with moss and decorated with fragrant golden bells of mallos and alfirin. It was most likely an unchanged part of the cave system where the King had spent most of his time when wanting to be close to nature but still needing to remain shielded and unseen. The royal household knew better than to disturb him there as it was his place of meditation and tranquility no other elf would step into, so much so that even with his invitation and his drawing her into the alcove Tauriel felt some reluctance and uncertainty when he pulled her into a sunbathed spot to sit crosslegged face to face with him, but he still didn’t let go of her hand, “the experience will probably be overwhelming when I let go of the barrier and you will not be able to do anything else than watch what happened unfold in your mind.”

Tauriel nodded, “I’m ready,” she repeated firmly. Trusting him, the young elleth didn’t think there was anything to be afraid of and was rather puzzled by what he could be afraid of. 

“Look into my eyes,” Thranduil got hold of her other hand as well, nodding encouragingly, “just keep looking, our shared moments should unroll in a moment.” He paused, seemingly searching for something in her eyes intensely that he started focusing on with an unburdening exhale, “Tauriel elvanui

Elleth alfirin edhelhael

na-chaered palan diriel

I reniad lín ne môr, nuithannen. O môr henion i dhû…”

Tbc

Glossary/Translation of the chant:

Tauriel the elven-fair, immortal maiden elven-wise having gazed afar at the distance your journey in darkness stopped. From darkness I understand the night.


	11. Brilliant Star Left Behind

Chapter 11: Brilliant Star Left Behind

Tauriel hopped down into the little hidden inlet, the only place within a day’s walking distance where it was possible to step into the river unhindered by steep stone wall banks or overgrown vegetation. There used to be less bushes close to home, but now that her father had disappeared a little while back, there was nobody strong enough to cut down the branches out the way of the paths. The little elfling however was not bothered too much by this, she knew well enough where to find apple trees and mallorn nuts, and most importantly her favourite wimberries and brambles. Peapods have overgrown the space behind the family hut and her little mind was quite confident in her ability to catch some fish to go with it now that the weather allowed for it, after all, she had done it often enough with her adar. She wouldn’t go far, she didn’t even plan on undoing the rope holding the barque nor would know how to, but that was alright, she wasn’t strong enough for the oars at any case. 

It wasn’t that she wasn’t scared to venture this far, the furthest she’d went in the time she was all alone, but none of the threats and dangers she had been warned of had materialised of late and she was becoming a little more confident to explore the possibilities. There was no other person she had seen in the time her hair had grown long enough for her to have to put another twist of the braid in it, awkward as she had managed it, but quite proud of it too. Not quite grasping the concept of time and especially how to count it on the calendar, she didn’t know how long that was, but it was sufficient for her to startle and hide behind a tree trunk fishing rod and all when spotting a stranger’s little rowing boat embedded in the mud in the creek she had been heading to. 

Hiding Tauriel had always been good at, it was what saved her when the spider took her mother, her furthest back memory. She knew when to move on too, there was no reason not to after she had assured herself that nothing was moving or gave any appearance of danger. Keeping her fishing rod to use as a weapon if necessary, she slowly crept towards the new object, taking shelter every few steps till she could peek into it, still not making a sound as she pulled herself forward on a branch for a better look. 

There was an elf in it. A big, golden haired, beautiful ellon with jewels on his fingers she had never seen the likes of before. Not that she’d seen an elf like this before either, he looked quite different to the few Tauriel had met in her short life. And dead. Most likely dead. Who would choose this spot to sleep so unprotected out in the open? Unsure of what to do, Tauriel crept further on the branch overhanging the boat partly because she was fascinated by the appearance and partly because she could maybe find out if the elf was really dead if she was close enough. Her inexperience was her downfall, quite literally as she didn’t calculate in the effect her weight would have on that particular part of the willow tree’s offshoot. 

Tauriel let out a yelp, not being able to do anything against the consequences of her actions as she tumbled down from high above, yet landed softly atop of the stranger’s stomach, losing grip of her fishing rod now embedded into the other elf’s side. The little elfling gasped and froze, now even more certain the blond was dead due to the lack of reaction from her fall, which made her even more intent to try to get away when she realised she was tangled into the line and would not be able to get far unless she freed her fishing rod, but at her first yank, the elf’s eyes flew open and he grabbed at her shoulders with both hands, essentially making it impossible for her to run away. 

“You. What is it exactly that you think you are doing, child?” The elf’s words were frustrated, yet sluggish. 

“I am so sorry I have hurt you, please forgive me, I will not bother you anymore,” Tauriel gave the fishing hook another yank, her young mind disregarding cause and effect once more.

“Quit tearing my insides apart! Seriously you’re just as careless as Legolas, if not more,” the pale ellon was disturbed enough to pull up into a sitting position and deposit the child off him to the other side of the boat, though the stuck line still made it impossible for them to get too far away from each other. “Where are your parents?” Thranduil reached for his sword for lack of anything else to cut the thread with. 

“Please sir, I didn’t mean to fall on you,” the little girl was suddenly in tears at the sight of the weapon. 

Thranduil paused at that, blade half way out from its scabbard, “here child, can you try to cut the line with this, it hurts too much to move for me.”

Tauriel looked at him searchingly, determine if she had to be afraid but there seemed to be something benevolent in the great elf’s eyes that calmed her despite the sombre and strange circumstances he appeared in so she reached out for the hilt, her hand sliding under his long fingers. There was no question that she wouldn’t be able to lift the sword, though she did try to move it and the blond came to her rescue, some of his fingers remaining to never loosen their grip as they slid the blade out slowly together and used it more like a knife than anything else to free themselves. Tauriel barely looked at looked at what they were doing, she didn’t have to as he guided their actions, remaining spellbound by his eyes, an entranced look on her face. 

The tall elf thought it all went well as he sheathed his weapon, but instead of being relieved or running away, the little elfling burst into more intense crying and threw herself at him once more in a form of a needful embrace, spreading her tears onto his tunic. Thranduil frowned, heightening his senses with conscious effort to feel out their surroundings for possible jeopardy and the reason for the child’s upset state. He was not finding anything obvious, though he couldn’t quite trust himself. On his way to sail to Valinor via the river, he had long given up on giving any regard for his own safety and switched off his connections to the living or his surroundings. Part of him would have wanted to simply dump the little girl on the riverbank and push away from the mud he didn’t even know he’d become stuck in because his fea was already somewhere else, with someone else in the realm of the Valar. Yanking it back to give his attention to the situation at present hurt and rattled his insides, but he couldn’t just abandon a helpless, vulnerable inhabitant of these, most likely still his lands if he’s been stuck here instead of crossing the border, “are you alone here?”

The child with the red pleats nodded into his chest, a new wave of tears making his clothes wet. “Did you get lost?” A shake of the head this time. 

“So you can get back to your family alright?” It was hard to talk to children. Why couldn’t they just answer straight. 

Tauriel pulled away to look into his eyes, her innocent and sad gaze boring burning canyons into his highly sensitised soul. “I don’t have a family.”

It made him pause. “Who is taking care of you then?”

“I don’t know anyone.”

“How old are you elfling?” His eyes became more alive, more interested. 

Tauriel looked at him distraught, “I don’t know.”

“For how long have you been on your own?” 

“A bit long?” The child frowned, aware that she had not given a satisfactory answer given how unhappy the blow-in looked.

He rolled his eyes at his luck. So much for sailing on this day. Notwithstanding the fact that he had felt so unable to continue living with his sorrow and had started on this route in secret, he was still King of Mirkwood, whether or not the Court had gotten hold of his abdication letter by now and either way whether he was ever king or not, abandoning a solitary elfling in the middle of the treacherous forest to fend for herself was not something he could do. “We need shelter for the night,” he finally began to think of the necessities of his reality, “do you at least have that?”

Tauriel nodded vehemently, happy she could please this time, “my cabin.” She had started to refer to the family home as such in her mind. 

“How far?” Thranduil was dubious of his own physical abilities. He hadn’t eaten in weeks in his melancholy and had given himself over body and fea to become one with creation the night before. Just the thought of standing up was making him dizzy.

“Twentyeight trees upriver, then a little more than that to the side,” came the curious calculation, “not afar,” the elfling underlined her words with some more encouraging nodding. 

“That doesn’t seem to be too far away,” Thranduil tested his abilities by placing the child outside the boat onto the muddy shore. Leaning over and climbing out didn’t prove to be much of a challenge either, but when he tried to straighten up, he was swallowed up by a wave of dizziness that had the forest signing and dancing around them in what looked like sudden darkness, just like he’d predicted he would be. He came to his senses with water being sloshed into his face, clothes muddied from lying on the shore. 

“Are you alright, Sir? I can bring Vladut.”

“Who?” Thranduil wasn’t quite sure he wasn’t dreaming this whole encounter. He shook his head for clarity. 

“Yes, I have a donkey I swear,” the child sounded proud, though she was in fact more proud of the fact she has not forgotten taking care of the animal when nobody was around to remind her like her father used to have to. 

Thranduil raised an eyebrow, not sure why she’d need to swear to that. “Would be quite the torture for an animal as small as a donkey to carry me,” he would be considerate of such issues even in a situation like this, “if he would be able to carry me at all. Let’s just move,” he tested his abilities again by getting to his feet once more but instead of trying to straighten up, he put a hand on the child’s shoulder, albeit without a lot of his weight to add to it, “lead us.”

Up the riverbank was a struggle, but at least the incline meant he would not be needing to stand tall till they reached the forest path where his attention was taken up by the disturbing sense of the Shadow. It was no place for a child and he doubted he could even protect her if any of Sauron’s creatures attacked. The thought sobered him somewhat and his fea reached out, back into the forest, anchoring itself anew to the old familiar. Thranduil breathed in deeply, soaking in the energy the woodland Kingdom gave him. It was humbling how much, it made the royal embarrassed by his own negligence considering what he wanted to throw away. Nature had given him so much, and what was he giving back in return? Not enough. He should never have been running away, giving up. He owed not just the elfling, but the place that much. He would only need a short rest to take the child to the Halls, hopefully before Galion gives up on his silence in regards to the whereabouts of the King and hands his resignation letter over to the Council.

Tbc


	12. A Day's Awakening

Chapter 12: A Day’s Awakening 

The disorientation of simultaneously sitting in a cosy moss bed holding hands with Thranduil and trudging through the overgrown foliage in her mind’s eye affected Tauriel enough that it was a few times that the older elf had to call out to her before it registered, “are you alright?” Thranduil’s voice was stiff and uneasy. 

“You have started sailing!” As an adult, Thranduil’s past actions were a lot more clearer for Tauriel, “you have given up your crown, your life, you have let your body start to weaken in preparation of letting it all go!” Even with the distance of over two hundred years, Tauriel was horrified and worried. She felt her chest clenching in dread. 

“Do you understand now why I had to take away your memories?” The King lowered his voice as if someone could have heard them, “you might have not known where I was going or what it meant back then, but you could have said something to Legolas, to anyone who could have figured it out.”

“No one knew?” The redhead swallowed the knot in her throat. 

“Not for sure, no. I’ve given Gallion a letter to explain my absence but he wasn’t to open it till weeks after my departure. I wasn’t worrying about it since by then there would be no way back for me anymore. I cared not, not anymore. But then you found me.”

“Yes, I have found you, not the other way round,” Tauriel felt it was relevant to note, only half in tease. “It couldn’t have been easy to change your plans for me,” she added as an afterthought, embarrassed for having caused him pain. 

“I couldn’t just leave you there. It didn’t feel right as my last act in this realm. But the more we approached the Halls, the more you reminded me of the joys of life and how they used to please me. And for that, I thank you. I owe you my life, Tauriel. You have anchored my soul to the living. The healers might be puzzled over why your presence helps me, but I’m not. I am connected to you as you have brought me back from beyond. Then I watched this innocent child grow up and become a skilled, confident warrior, the most beautiful I have ever seen. My feelings towards you grew with you, so much they are overpowering, so much it’s hard for me to imagine being without you. There, you see the truth.”

“Love, is it love?” Tauriel still wasn’t sure how to define the phenomenon of the assault of feelings. 

“Yes,” Thranduil didn’t seem in any way uncertain. “If you do not want it, if you feel like you cannot reciprocate, then as I sign of my respect of you, I will not push despite what it may seem from my announcement. I was just angry given your sudden, impulsive departure, you will recognise the phenomenon,” he made a joke out of his own temperament, “but you have no commitment.”

“No commitment? By what I understand, you and your healers seem to suggest your soul isn’t strong enough to continue solus. And I’m the one who has stopped you from crossing over to start with, and I am the one who has prolonged your heartache.”

“Please don’t think about it that way. I cannot have you misunderstand me again. I am ready to die, I have been for a very long time.” 

“You say that ridiculously conversationally. Because you think that’s what love is? I will show you what love is. I will be your betrothed, your partner, your companion, your other half, anything you need,” Tauriel maintained fiercely, “do the ceremony, ask me now.”

“Dear one, it doesn’t work that way. With all your will, your soul has its own mind, you can’t force or even wish love on it, it will reject it like that.”

“Try me,” the younger elf stood her ground vehemently, aggravated for having been put into the situation and also, for being doubted. She would never betray her King again, that was certain in her mind. “Don’t we need to do it quick if you don’t want to look like a fool in front of the whole realm where you’ve sent your invites.”

Thranduil contemplated this, tempted despite common sense. “Go get rid of the dust of the road, have a rest and then come back to me so we can talk about it,” logic won. “Right now I need my rest too,” he glanced in the direction of his bed, seemingly so far away. In her absence, he hadn’t been able to get upright the whole time, dangerously ill and worrying healers and commonfolk the same. Yet with her he had practically floated over to the sanctuary, not even thinking of the physical duress it entailed. He had to reveal to her their primal, compelling connection, “you will need time to process what you now remember, and some other, related memories might come back too. Once you know how that makes you feel you can tell me, just be honest like you always are.” Considering the conversation over in favour of rest, he waved a dismissive hand.

“I know what I feel. Love. I cannot let you die the same way I could not let Kili die. And the desperation to do so is akin. I’m trying to explain that to fail would hurt the same way.”

The Sindar leaned back on a mound, exhausted by the plentiful activities of the last hour as opposed to the nothing he had been doing the days before. He indulged her train of thought almost just to get it over with, “unfortunately there’s only one way to know for sure if we’re in such a hurry.”

“The ceremony,” Tauriel grabbed for his hand again, noting how pale he had turned a few moments before, “My King, please let me help you, I really want to,” the redhead prayed to the Valar that her soul will indeed respond to the call and squared her shoulders, ready to fight him if he opposed any further. 

“With all your eagerness, I don’t have the strength for that right now,” his other hand snaked towards his belly and he grimaced. Everything seemed too much to deal with at this point.

Tauriel scooted closer and placed her palm atop as well, hoping that her close physical presence will alleviate the symptoms. If everything he claimed to be true indeed was, then it should. “What do you want me to do?” She gave him a sad smile.

“Hold me,” he swallowed against the rising nausea, but raised his head to move it into her lap, “I will do the ritual as soon as I can,” he settled in. 

Tbc


	13. Trumpets Ring Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, here it comes

Chapter 13: Trumpets Ring Out

It wasn’t without arguments over his comfort and well-being that the prospective couple had finally settled on a version of the ceremony where they didn’t have to follow the custom of having to ride off out into the wilds of the backwoods for the appropriate middle of nowhere setting where Mother Nature could have witnessed their offerings. Tauriel barely agreed to letting Thranduil out of her sight as far as the adjacent room and was sitting anxiously waiting for him on the steps that led up to his personal balcony in a state that felt like her head was empty and big, but only because she didn’t know what to think anymore due to the extreme changes in her life of late. It was disorienteering having found out that apparently, she was his everything? How could that even be. Seemed like a different life. 

Deeply engulfed in a whirlwind of bewilderment, Tauriel looked up as she sensed her King’s presence. Seemingly she had missed him coming in, which must have been partly because he was now barefoot, and more than just barefoot. The Silvan had been vaguely aware from hushed conversations that the formal uniting ceremonies were to be done like this, buck naked without a stitch on in a state of nature as the countryside itself they’d ideally be at, but she hadn’t actually thought about the prospect of him appearing like this in advance. Well, technically he wasn’t altogether au naturel because as opposed to her, he had in fact thought about not traumatising the unsuspecting maiden and wore some strategically placed jewellery along with his most regal, golden crown, and a matching chain around his hips that allowed the housing of some decorative, although most likely still highly functional daggers and wide, golden wristlets that had the potential to hide quite a lot depending on hand placement. 

Tauriel stood at any case with her mouth open, forgetting to take a breath as her eyes took in the sight. Of course everyone was aware that Thranduil was bewitchingly beautiful and there was something about him that felt like out of this world that most would put down to his Sindarin origins. What the she-elf didn’t expect was how she was unable to reign herself in and draw her gaze away before fully appreciating the rest of his lean figure, the lush curvature of his muscles, the seductive narrowing of his hips clearly emphasizing the real jewels barely just camouflaging amongst the hanging adornments on his band. Tauriel finally remembered to look away in embarrassment when she caught a glimpse of his phallus refusing to behave and peek out as well. “I am glad your illness didn’t affect you so much as to lose too much weight,” the redhead blushed as she tried to change the tune of her shameful thoughts. 

“According to Gallion, I have, but he may be mistaken,” he waved dismissively as he came closer, glad for the distractive conversation topic too as it lessened the feeling of awkwardness. “Are you ready?” He nodded at her, holding his hand out for her to take when he was close enough.

“Do I..Do I have to get undressed as well?” She indulged him with her hands but didn’t dare to look into his eyes. Big mistake. Up close, right in her line of vision, his skin seemed to be glittering with a translucent light, his chest sculpted to perfection and calling out to be touched. Averting her eyes lower was a much bigger mistake with his virile member a hairbreath’s from her thigh. She didn’t feel like touching that, something inside her wanted to lick it instead. 

“No. At least not yet. We’re supposed to lie down on the grass, but still..” He shrugged in the direction of the cushions decorating his bed. Tauriel let herself be led over, surprised that she had been so affected by seeing him with nothing on, but maybe that was why the ceremony was necessitated. Thranduil didn’t let go of her hand as he climbed the poster bed, though it clearly caused him some discomfort with in his other hand resulting to hold his stomach while he settled atop of the pillows. 

“Are you alright?” Tauriel found herself following that hand with her own, ceremony and nakedness forgotten for a moment as she watched him wince and let out a groan. It was hard to ignore. Did he really get this ill because she went away?

“One thing. Do not torture yourself. I can’t say I haven’t dealt with similar inconveniences day by day since facing the Serpents of the North.”

“And that is to make me relax how?”

“Just to make you aware that your concerns are misplaced. I’m not a stranger to chronic pain. The injuries I keep under glamour are supposed to make movement painful but I don’t even feel it anymore. I can do this Tauriel,” he moved to the belt to unattach it and let its sides fall carelessly onto the bed, making the redhead pull back in second hand embarrassment. His wristlets followed and he lay there now fully exposed, penis curving elongated just as elegantly as if it would have also been aware of the knowhow of regal poise and equally as aware as the King of how to capture attention just by existing and moving, head held high and imposing. Thranduil waited till Tauriel entangled herself from the sight and reached for her hands again, “I stand before you as I am, stripped down of all placement and convictions,” he recited the ritual even though he was nor standing or stripped down of his status as a king barebottom or not, “no secrets, no allure, no lie,

I give myself over in all respects without exception from first to last.

I am yours to be taken if you so shall decide,” he looked at her expectantly. 

“Where do I begin? Should I..?” Tauriel felt awkward as she undid the straps on her tunic in response.

“Do not do anything on my behalf. Only if you want to,” Thranduil sounded serious despite being stark naked. His eyes revealed a spark of eager delight however as she slowly, abashedly freed her shoulders, then let the garment drop to reveal her firm, shapely breasts. His mouth parted and his breathing deepened but apart from these reactions he did not encourage or rush her and simply watched intently as she moved to kick off her boots and shrugged out of her leggings to a little lick of his lips.

“What do I do now? Do I say it back?” The elleth remained confused. 

“No. Only if you want to,” Thranduil repeated, fully aware that he may have felt a lot more connected to her than vice versa, “don’t do this out of duty, don’t do this just to save your king.”

Tauriel swallowed in heavy apprehension, “because it won’t work if I don’t mean it with all my heart and soul.” And she so desperately wanted to save her king, “I stand before you as I am, stripped down of all placement and convictions,

no secrets, no allure, no lie,

I give myself over in all expects without exception from first to last.

I am yours to be taken so I did decide,” she just hoped that her intentions were enough. 

He nodded at her gratefully in appreciation of her efforts and with an attention-attracting clear of the throat he pulled what appeared to be another item of jewellery from under the pillow, a stately and majestic circlet he leaned to place atop of her head, not very unlike his own he wore on occasion, only thinner and with a simpler pattern, and with a rose coloured small jewel in the middle. 

She wasn’t interested in it, nor what he meant by it. It was the slight wince the movement elicited in him that drew her attention instead, “I didn’t do it right, did I,” she fretted, almost in tears at her own uselessness, “you’re still in pain, our feas did not bond.”

He smiled at her dismissively, cheekily, “give me a chance, My Lady, will you,” he pulled himself higher to plant a chase kiss on her lips, then drew back to check her reaction. 

Of course, maybe it was supposed to be in the kiss, Tauriel decided and leaned in to reciprocate, hands somehow insolent enough to dare touch his chest drawn by some invisible force. Smooth under her fingers, her hands slid round his shoulders involuntarily while his tongue darted to meet hers tentatively, breaths mingled in burning thirst. “You see now that I am yours?” There was roguery in his voice when he glanced down, clearly indicating his straining, demanding erection.

Tauriel marvelled at the body part, having never seen one in action before. Her hand again seemed to have its own mind and she almost touched his cock before becoming self-conscious enough to drop her hand onto his stomach instead, “are you feeling well enough for continuing this?”

“I would have wanted to take you there and then when you threatened me at the foot of Erebor,” Thranduil was in awe with the way her beautiful bright hair bathed her naked shoulders, “fighting my feelings for you, it had been torture,” he reached behind her to release the band holding her pleats together. 

“What should I do?” Tauriel was still unsure of how the whole ceremony was meant to go down, apart from wanting to give it her all.

“You’re too tense,” the blond observed, “forget I’m the king. You never cared for station anyway, only merit,” he cupped her cheek to direct her abashed gaze back to his, “now, we need to make you comfortable. Your wish will always be my command, you should know that.”

“That is not how it works,” the maiden with green eyes gave him a disapproving look, “naked or not, you’re still King. Very dishy, albeit,” she dared to flirt as her eyes invariably tore back to his cock.

Taking the clue, he slowly put an arm around her and drew closer, erection now fidgeting to attention and bumping into her belly. Tauriel swallowed and licked her lips. His aura, his draw, his body, it was irresistible. “I am yours,” she confirmed as her bright green eyes took him in, seeing him, really seeing him for the first time and feeling the truthfulness of her words a lot more than before. 

It seemed to have been what he was waiting for because he took hold of her this time by the waist and placed her down onto her back on the bed. “Let me love you Tauriel like I know how.” His grin didn’t leave any questions about the truth in his words. Without breaking eye contact, his fingers traced the outline of her shapely, full lips, stroked her cheek as he marvelled at the wonder of her colour changing eyes. 

Tauriel had no idea she could ever be treasured like this. That she was worth it, that the King himself thought so was hard to comprehend. Beholden and humbled, she initiated the kiss this time, a soft, heaving, breathy kiss that conveyed her need as well. All logical thought left her as she savoured his lips, craving more and a deeper reach when all she could get was a bite and pull of his bottom lip. Not that he was making it any easier for her. His tongue was skillfully teasing, his fingers reached to touch her in unimaginable places, stringing her cords alive, body squirming against his long frame, nipples erect against his chest. It was as if his movements would have been intentionally lazy, his lips intentionally torturesome and leisurely. Tauriel could not take that pace anymore. Frustrated, she grabbed at his bottocks, pulling his loins, his penis tightly against herself. 

The action was not lost on him. With a fluid movement, he slid his cock between her folds, swiping and stroking them with his stiff rod. Completely in control of himself, he looked for eye contact again and caressed her sides, her shoulders, the sides of her breasts. Tauriel giggled at the stray thought of the appearance of her nestling under the tent of his sprawled out hair. Her whole body felt hot in a way she couldn’t have imagined temperature could affect an elf. It made her feel hungry. It dawned on her briefly that she was kissing her King and that her King loved her for some unfathomable reason. With Eru being witness, she did not deserve it, not with her insolence and insubordination. But then again, why not, the king was just another ellon, fallible and vulnerable. Hers. It was an intoxicating thought. 

Tauriel found herself moaning as his searing lips travelled up and down her sensitive ears like he knew exactly where to lick. His teeth pulled at the erogenous edge like a good king and she arched up as if he’d played her as an instrument, her groins begging for his rod to enter her. He moved against her, rhythm speeding up, his cock enticing her further with just the exact amount of pressure to drive her crazy, but he didn’t indulge her with fulfilling her wishes. “I..I surrender,” the elleth managed to breathe hungrily. She tried to pull his head back, have his lips on her, have a chance to devour him in return. Tauriel was quite sure she fully understood the meaning of the words she was whispering, “I am yours” now.

Thranduil seemed to be thrumming with a curious, new-found energy. Was it love? With one fluid movement, he pushed her upwards so he could bury his face in her mounds, his skillful tongue forwarding that energy and bringing her groins fully to life. Tauriel squirmed at the assault of the senses, but he had no mercy as he tickled and stroked and stimulated her nerve endings. The redhead fisted the sheets for lack of anything else to hold onto and threw her head from side to side. As marvellous as this experience was, the Silvan needed it to progress before she would explode and her incredibly wet pussy overflowed. With desperate determination, she decided to attract his attention by pulling at his hair instead, anything to get him to comply with her needs, “I want you,” she felt it was important to articulate this clearly. 

“Tauriel, this is it, not a time for heedless haste. There’s no going back for an elf after this. We will be bonded,” he also felt it was important to stop his teasing to postulate. 

In hindsight, Tauriel would have said she gave absolutely no thought to his physical wellbeing at this point, nor to the consequences of such a union between them. Her being was simply calling out to be fulfilled, completed with its other half. Pulsating with aching abandonment and a rush of affection, some of the feeling was certainly lust, but elves weren’t such animalistic creatures. A bodily need always matched a desideratum of the soul. With the next move, it would be done, she was just as certain as he was and she had no objections. “What are you waiting for?”

“You. You have to do it, it has to be you,” he turned to lie next to her, giving control completely over.

She pouted in disappointment, but then her next thought tried to justify the turn of events, “what, why? Are you alright? Is it your stomach?” She turned too to see him, scrutinise him, arms on his chest.

“No, meleth-nin. I have loved you for many years. You may have had positive feelings towards me at times, but it’s not the same. I’d just like to be sure that you do mean what you say now.”

“You’re stubborn and silly, you know that?” Tauriel moved to straddle him, relieved that she hadn’t been inadvertedly causing him any more harm. Perhaps it was natural instinct that guided her movements, but she did not worry about the how and its reverberations, she just simply positioned herself and gave herself the pleasure of what she’d been wanting during their lovemaking all along, and have that beautiful, rounded stick inside her. 

The result surprised both of them. There were a million little sensations happening at once, along with a deeper sense of arousal that had them grabbing for each other, vibrations turning into undulations and those into a frantic rhythm. In the back of her mind, Tauriel became aware of a strangely almost palpable humming sound, other-worldly and godly, but the call of the flesh was too strong for her to pay much attention to it. Slick with their precums, his cock moved easily and effortlessly deeper and deeper into her soft cavern, his fingers holding onto her buttocks to arch her into the sweet pressure of their joined hips while he tried to reach her core and at the same time, not lose that world of cum prematurely that had been gathering in his balls for centuries. The conflicting, dizzying muddle was making him quiver and he was about to give up holding back the impossible when he felt her walls tighten, signalling her blessed orgasm that allowed him to let go and flood her insides with his seed in some mighty bursts fit for a king. Thranduil rolled his hips in relief, never wanting to let go, or pull out from inside her. 

Radiating with sensations she’d never felt before, Tauriel collapsed atop of him, burying herself in his sprawled out hair once more. There seemed to be a desperate possessiveness rising in her not to let him go, not even as far as relaxing her legs or letting his sex slide out of her. She was still catching her breath but she had to ask, “is this what the connection feels like? Wanting to look for chains to bind you to me and never let you go?”

Thranduil laughed, vivacious and content while he settled her languidly as close against his side as it was possible, “yes. But it will get easier to part. It’s all too new right now and overwhelming.”

“Did it work?” Tauriel looked up at him searchingly, “I don’t know if you are feeling better?”

“Honestly? A little.”

“A little?” The wood-elf was shocked. There couldn’t be anything wrong with him because she was not inclined to even think about losing him, it was an inconceivable concept to her now, infinitesimally more than before. 

“I do feel better. Yes, I feel strong,” he rubbed a hand across his midsection as if to test it, “but it will take time to experience the full benefits of being with you,” he grabbed her mischievously round her waist, gaze teasing once more.

“Sure? You will be alright? And soon?” That’s all she wanted to know right now.

“With you finally taking your place by my side, I can in fact do anything,” he leaned his head against hers.

The End.


End file.
